


the moment i'd hoped for

by granteares



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Parswoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 09:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10273130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/granteares/pseuds/granteares
Summary: The quickest and most efficient way to Kent Parson's heart is through the approval of Kit Purrson.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I asked for some Parswoops prompts on tumblr and a wonderful anon sent me: “swoops meeting kit! Shenanigans of him bribing her to like him bc she's Kent's baby”!! So thank you to that anon and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Unbeta’d so any boo-boos are my own.

The first time Jeff came over to Kent’s condo— alone, because team-bonding events didn’t count— they had been hooking up for five months and Kent hadn’t had a good excuse not to let Swoops over considering it was the first time he’d actually _asked_. Normally, they could get away with going to the small house that Jeff shared with Hale, and that had been fine with Kent. Letting Jeff over felt like a step toward changing hooking up into something more like a relationships.

Kent had just been about to hop in the shower when the doorbell rung an hour and a half earlier than the time Jeff had given him. With a curse, Kent had turned the water off, thrown his clothes back on, and wandered to the front door. Sure enough it was Jeff standing in his doorway.

“Your shirt’s on backwards,” Jeff said in way of greeting.

“And you’re an insane amount of time early,” Kent pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Still gonna let me in, though, right?” Jeff raised his eyebrows, smiling lopsidedly.

“Is making you wait out here an hour and a half an option?” Kent smirked back.

“No! It’s hot as fuck, c’mon.” Jeff nudged Kent aside— not that Kent really fought him on it— and into Kent’s apartment.

Kent shut the door behind him, then pulled Swoops into a kiss: short and light. When he pulled away again, he said, “I’m going to shower now— and no, you’re not joining me. But make yourself at home, I guess.” When Jeff agreed, he went back upstairs to his shower.

In retrospect, he should have warned Jeff to watch out for Kit. She wasn’t really a social cat, and even Kent hadn’t been immune to her claws when he had adopted her; it had taken months of scratches until she had finally realized he was trustworthy. It was another reason he didn’t generally bring guys home with him— it was far more trouble than it was worth, and Kit was the most important being in Kent’s life, anyway; he’d pick her over a guy any day of the week. Normally, when he had teammates over, Kit would find a hiding place and refuse to come out until everyone had left and Kent was tidying up.

When Kent got out of the shower, had toweled off and thrown a change of clothes on, he went back downstairs and found Jeff sitting in his living room: him cross-legged on one end of the couch, facing Kit who sat warily on the other end, ears pointed back.

“Tempting fate, huh?” Kent posed, standing in the threshold to the living room, smiling.

Jeff jumped, then looked over and Kent and nodded. “Guess so, yeah.”

“I’m amazed she hasn’t killed you yet.”

“She did scratch up my hand,” Jeff admitted.

Kent frowned, and walked to where Jeff was sitting. “She did? Lemme see— is it bad?” he started, reaching out for Jeff’s hands to examine the damage.

“Dude, it’s just a cat scratch, it’s fine. I cleaned it already.” Jeff held out his left hand anyway, as if to appease Kent, and Kent took it, looking it over. “No need to panic.” Kent frowned again, then let the hand go. He wasn’t wrong: it didn’t look bad. “C’mon, let’s order Chinese and watch a movie?” Jeff offered. Kent nodded, because that sounded like a great idea, even if their nutritionist would hate them for it.

 

**_/ x \\_**

 

The second time Swoops came over, Kent had been half-asleep on his couch. It was an off-day for the Aces and he had taken the opportunity to tidy up his condo because it had been a while. He wasn’t expecting anyone, so when the doorbell rang, he jumped enough that it made Kit— curled up by his side— jump as well, then get off the couch and patter away somewhere. He pushed himself from the couch and to the front door.

“What the fuck, Swoops,” he muttered when he swung the door open. “You gonna keep showing up at my house unannounced?”

Jeff was smiling the lopsided smirk he had when he knew he was being an asshole. “You want me to leave?” As if he would, he took a step back.

Kent rolled his eyes. “No. You’re here— come on in, I guess.” He ran a hand through his hair as he stepped out of the doorway, locking the door behind Swoops when he’d stepped inside.

“What’re you up to?”

“I was sleeping… I don’t even know what time it is, honestly.” He rubbed at his eyes, trying to feel more awake than he was, now that he had company— especially since said company was _Jeff_.

“It’s like, dinner time.”

“I see a theme here,” Kent teased, and watched Jeff shrug his shoulders. “Well, I actually have food in the fridge this time. I’ll whip something up.”

“I’ll help,” Swoops offered.

Which found them in the kitchen not long afterward, various pots and pans and ingredients set out on the counters and stove top. Kent had had no idea that Jeff knew how to cook, but once everything was set out, he looked like a natural, multi-tasking prepping vegetables with talking Kent’s ear off as per usual and gently hip-checking him any time he walked by. It felt good to be in the kitchen with him, Kent thought, then immediately tried to dismiss that thought, because _what_.

After they had gotten everything cooking, and just had to wait, Kent noticed that Kit was peering around the entryway to the kitchen— still wary of Swoops, probably, but also fighting against the smell of  _chicken_ and knowing it was dinner time. He walked over to where he had Kit’s food and water dishes set out, and grabbed the empty food dish. The water bowl looked like it could use freshening up, as well, so as he straightened up and walked over to the cabinet where Kit’s food was kept, he glanced at Jeff. “Would you mind refilling Kit’s water bowl?” he asked. “Just— empty what’s in there and put new water in.”

“Oh, yeah— sure,” Jeff agreed, and a moment later Kent heard his sink running. Meanwhile, Kent had grabbed a can of cat food from Kit’s cabinet and was emptying it into her dish. Kit had walked into the kitchen at this point— she always did as soon as she heard the tell-tale sign of a can being tabbed open, or anything that sounded like kibble chunks rustling in a bag. She was standing by her placemat on the floor, mewling impatiently.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kent argued with her, “I’m working on it, see?” He glanced up at Jeff. “You can go ahead and just put that down,” he instructed, realizing he was standing a little ways of with the full water dish in his hands. With a nod, he approached, and bent over to put the bowl down. Kit mewled at him, nudging his hand a moment, then turned around back to Kent when she realized that it was not actually the _food_.

“Wow, rejected,” Jeff said with a laugh.

Kent rolled his eyes, and handed the food bowl to Jeff. “There, go ahead. Win my cat over.” It was ridiculous the way that Swoops’ face lit up at that, and he took the bowl from Kent’s hand and then placed it down in front of Kit on the placement after she continued her demanding mewls. Her tail swished happily as she immediately dug in, and Kent walked off to wash his hands.

There was still some time to wait on the food to cook, so he proposed they might as well go through the process of deciding what on earth to watch already, so they wouldn’t have to debate over dinner. So they found themselves in the living room, sat next to each other on the couch with Jeff’s arm hooked around Kent’s shoulder. Kit padded in not long after, apparently satisfied with her dinner, and Kent watched her hop onto the back of the couch, walking over until she was curled behind Kent’s head. Jeff tensed for a moment as Kit laid a paw on his arm, but when she made no other moves, he relaxed again. Kent raised an eyebrow, then mentally shrugged it off. At least Kit wasn’t attacking him. It felt almost more like an _‘I’m still not sure I like you, but you fed me, so I’m giving you a chance, don’t fuck it up.'_

 

**_/ x \\_**

 

The third time, Swoops had actually warned Kent he was coming over and he’d bought groceries to cook Kent dinner. It was Saturday, and they had played an early-afternoon home game against the Aeros, so Kent really had no reason to protest since the game and following obligations— press time, mostly— had ended and he had been home vegging on his couch and going through his social media for an hour already. Besides, they had lost, and Kent certainly wasn’t opposed to the idea of a homemade meal and some feel-better cuddles after.

He had unlocked the door ahead of time, and shot Jeff a text to let him know he could let himself in. So he wasn’t surprised when he heard his front door opening and the rustling of plastic bags, and a familiar voice shouting “Yo, dude!” in greeting. Kent uncurled himself from the couch, and wandered into the entry hallway with a grin.

“Hey— Holy shit, what did you _buy_?” Jeff was laden with five or six grocery bags.

“Enough food to feed two hockey players who just burnt off a shit-ton of calories,” Swoops replied easily. “Fish sound good?” He looked sheepish for a moment, until he saw Kent was nodding.

“Fish sounds amazing,” he confirmed. “C’mon, I’ll help out.”

“Nah, it’s cool. Just remind me where stuff is and relax, Cap.”

Kent raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “If you’re sure— okay.” He led him to the kitchen, helped him in gathering what he asked for— pots and pans, cutting boards, measuring equipment, mostly— then sat one of the bar stools at the island and watched Swoops work.

After a while, Kit wandered in, and hopped up on the island. Kent was too busy focusing on watching Jeff move to protest like he normally would have, instead running his hands through Kit’s thick fur absently as she nuzzled his hand and purred.

When the fish was done cooking, Jeff gave the pair a look, then tore off a few small pieces from one of the filets. “Is it okay?” he asked Kent, glancing at Kit.

“Oh— sure, yeah. I do all the time. Go ahead, I’m sure if anything will make her love you…” He laughed quietly, then watched as Jeff walked closer. He held a piece out in his hand toward Kit, looking somewhat nervous, like maybe he wasn’t sure if Kit would bite his hand off instead (as if Jeff’s hand wasn’t two times bigger than her head). She barely even hesitated before nibbling at the proffered piece of salmon. He offered her the couple other small chunks he’d brought over, and started petting her as she finished the last one.

“Well, she probably officially loves you now,” Kent assured with a laugh. “Congratulations, you bribed my cat into liking you.”

“Success!” Jeff cheered gleefully. “I think that means I am approved to date you, now.”

Kent would have choked, if he had been eating or drinking anything— thankfully, he wasn’t. “Excuse me?” he sputtered.

Jeff looked at him with eyebrows raised. “Uh… date you? Like, officially? If… you want to… We’ve been doing this for months… I just thought…”

“You’ve been making my cat like you so that you could _date me_?”

"Yes?” Jeff looked so meek, so nervous— smaller, somehow, like he was trying to make himself shrink into the floorboards— and Kent felt a pang of guilt overwhelm the panic. Jeff wanted to date him. After five months of fucking him and two years of playing on the same hockey team as him… Jeff had seen just how much of a pain in the ass and how much of a mess Kent really was and he still wanted to date him? He wanted to date him bad enough that he had decided the best way to do that— and he wasn’t _wrong_ — was to make Kent’s  _cat_ like having him around first.

“I— uh— okay.” Because no one should let the tabloids fool them into thinking that Kent V. Parson was _smooth_ , clearly.

“Okay…” Jeff echoed, then smiled, and let out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah, okay,” Kent said back.

“Great.” Jeff smiled wider, then closed the distance between himself and Kent. He leaned in, and Kent, still sitting on the bar stool, tilted his face up so that their lips met. The kiss was soft, and felt different somehow than the kisses they had shared previously, and Kent only pulled back when Jeff did, who said, “Dinner’s done, so, uh, we should probably eat that… Like, before it gets cold. Or before Kit does.”

“Right, yeah,” Kent agreed, laughing himself now.

He pushed himself from the bar stool and got out silverware as Jeff dished dinner out onto two plates, throwing a couple more scraps onto the floor for Kit, who weaved around his feet and mewled excitedly each time he did.

**Author's Note:**

> I strongly headcanon Swoops being a Philly Boy to his core and I’m not even sorry. That has nothing to do with this fic besides picturing his accent. I just like to talk about Philly!Swoops. Look up our accent on YouTube if you don’t know how Philadelphians sound it’s worth it.
> 
> You can catch me on tumblr [@kentvparsin](http://kentvparsin.tumblr.com)


End file.
